


Saving Potter

by Pharetra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pharetra/pseuds/Pharetra
Summary: At the beginning of Fifth Year, Draco is certain he's about to catch Potter in a compromising situation. What he finds instead, is far from what anyone would have expected.





	Saving Potter

Draco was terribly pleased. He’d heard Potter’s voice around a corner on his prefect rounds that night near the base of the astronomy tower, and couldn’t wait to spread the story when he interrupted Potter, no doubt mid-tryst with some witch or other. He hurried up the spiral staircase, casting a muffling charm on his footsteps as he ascended. It wouldn’t do for Potter to hear him coming.

Draco burst through the door onto the astronomy tower’s open area and scanned around. It’s not like there were any places to hide up here; Potter’s goose was cooked.

“Evening Potter! Enjoying yourself? I do hope—” Draco strutted, before the brunet’s voice interrupted from the furthest corner.

“Do you think it would work?” came the simple but unexpected question, murmured quietly while the boy did nothing to try to run or hide, but continued leaning over the parapet.

Draco noticed that his head was tilted downwards, as if Potter were looking at the ground just below the tower for some reason.

“I— What? What are muttering about, Potter? Have you finally lost your gobstones entirely?” the blond spluttered.

“Do you think it would work from up here? I’ve tried before, you know. Seems like magic just doesn’t like me. Or does. Same difference.”

Draco stared, still trying to work out what the Boy-Who-Lived was on about.

Harry turned around, and looked straight into his rival’s grey eyes.

“Funny I’m telling you, of all people, isn’t it? But I guess it makes sense. You’re not exactly likely to try to stop me,” he said with a snort, before turning back around to lean out between two ancient stone merlons. “Do you think there’s some sort of magic on the tower stopping you?” Harry continued. “Seems unlikely, given the general lack of regard for student safety anywhere in this crazy place, but then again, it’d be just my luck if there was.”

An explanation was tickling Draco’s mind, but it seemed so ridiculous he scarcely gave it a thought. At least until Potter climbed up and sat right in the crenel, with his feet hanging straight over the edge.

“Potter, you can’t be thinking what I think you are,” Draco said, brows raised incredulously. “You’re the sodding Boy-Who-Lived! The entire bloody world is besotted with you! What reason could you possibly have to kill yourself, you attention-seeking prat?”

“Does it matter?” the green-eyed boy shot back. “It’s not like you’d care why. So do you know if it would work? Surely you and your pureblood upbringing would have some idea why I can’t seem to make it sodding happen. I thought maybe I needed somewhere higher up, and this was the highest place I could think of.”

“You’re saying you’ve done this before,” spoke Draco flatly. “Possibly multiple times.”

“Oh, definitely multiple times,” replied Harry, pausing to count. “Seven, I think. Though I’m not sure if the basilisk in second year really counts — I didn’t make it stab me, but I definitely hoped it’d actually kill me then. But bloody Fawkes came and cried on it.”

“You mean that bloody basilisk nonsense was real? What else?” gawped Draco before he could stop himself, brimming with morbid curiosity. It wasn’t every day you found out the Boy-Who-Bloody-Wouldn’t-Stop-Living didn’t actually _want_ to.

“Oh, twice jumping off buildings in the muggle world, once from a Hogwarts staircase, twice cutting my wrists, once with pills I stole from my aunt, and of course the basilisk incident,” he recounted, ticking them off on his fingers. “It never worked. Think I’m the Boy-Who’s-Cursed-To-Live, actually, sorry about that,” he said with a wry grin.

There was silence for a minute.

When Harry shifted forward a little, Draco suddenly jolted to his senses. “You know, I can’t let you do that, not that I would normally try to stop you,” he announced.

“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy. As if you give a damn,” came the brunet’s reply, as he edged forward once more.

“No, really, I don’t. But there’s one rather important mitigating factor.” Draco paused. “We are not exactly known to be ‘pals’. What do you think people are going to think, if they found you dead, and me at the scene? I’m not about to be carted off to Azkaban for murdering the Boy-Who-Lived. I’d be lynched before I even got there, were I that lucky.”

“Wouldn’t exactly be my problem, would it, Malfoy?” came the disinterested answer.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” cursed the blond, whipping out his wand. “ _Petrificus totalus. Locomotor,_ ” he muttered, moving the petrified boy back into the centre of the room, before undoing the spells.

“Potter, how must I get this into your thick skull. I. Do. Not. Wish. To. Be. Held. Responsible. For. Your. Attempted. Suicide. Now come along with me willingly, or I shall petrify you again, and leave you somewhere for Filch to find, in a terribly compromising position,” commanded the imperious blond.

“Fine,” Harry replied as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll come with you. Are you going to take me to Umbridge like a good boy?”

“As tempting as that remains,” huffed Malfoy, “it would be too easy for someone to find out I saved your bloody life, you lunatic. I can’t have that getting around, it would ruin my reputation.”

Harry laughed, but said nothing more as Draco led him quietly down the tower stairs.

“And come to think of it, no, it probably wouldn’t work,” the Slytherin hissed after a some minutes of silence. “There’s a bouncing ward just below the battlements, ever since a first-year fell out and died a hundred and fifty years ago. Who knows how strong it is these days, but it would summon a professor straight there regardless. One would think that with the sheer amount of nagging from your little girlfriend, you’d have actually picked up _Hogwarts: A History_ once in your life.” He paused. “I can’t believe I’m saying this — but maybe get a hobby that doesn’t involved trying to off yourself, you insane prat.”

With that, Draco shoved his charge up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room entrance, making sure to keep out of sight of the few portraits not asleep, while watching to ensure the boy actually went in.

“Gryffindors. Honestly,” he huffed.


End file.
